Ellie and Private MacArthur
by P.J. Murphy
Summary: Ellie is working the late shift at Schulman Medical Center in Chicago when she checks on a patient and learns about his heroic past. One-chapter story dedicated to the men and women who have given their lives in the service of our country. Happy Memorial Day.


_Hello. Just thought I would throw in a quick one-shot for Memorial Day weekend. Of all the holiday stories I do, people tend to like this one. Of course, we should never forget the sacrifices our brave men and women have made to keep our country safe and free. Make sure you take some time this weekend to thank those who have served and remember those who have given their lives for their brothers and sisters._

 _Thank you for reading._

* * *

 _ **Schulman Medical Center – Chicago, IL  
May 29, 2016  
8:30 PM CDT**_

Ellie yawned and stretched. She wasn't thrilled about working this late on a Sunday night…on a holiday weekend, no less…but she was returning the favor to Dr. Christina Shelton when Devon and she went to visit Chuck and Sarah in Los Angeles a month ago. Chrissy wanted to spend a long weekend with her boyfriend in New York, and the hospital was already a bit short-staffed with so many people using their vacation time. But that was life, and truthfully working a nice quiet shift was what she needed since Devon took Clara up to Connecticut to be with her grandparents.

She heard the beep of a call light from one of the beds down the hallway. "Want me to check on that?" the supervisor at the nursing station asked her.

Ellie shook her head. "Nah, I'll take it. I need to shake the cobwebs loose."

The supervisor handed her the metallic binder for the patient. Charlie MacArthur was, to put it mildly, a feisty person. But unlike those in his age bracket in the hospital, he seemed to be feisty in the playful sense rather than being difficult to handle. He was checked into the hospital from the senior living community where he lived just west of the Museum Campus and Soldier Field. He had difficulty breathing and moving around, and Devon had done extensive work on his heart over the past two weeks. But he wasn't optimistic. After all, Charlie was now 84 and had smoked for 25 years. He gave that habit up long ago, but there was only so much he could do with Charlie's advanced age.

Ellie knocked on the door and pushed it open. "Good evening, Mr. MacArthur."

"Great, another person who does that," he said in mild irritation. "I'm Charlie. My dad was Mr. MacArthur. Or I was when I was being bad in school."

Ellie smiled. "OK, Charlie. What can I do for you?"

"I think they may have to crank up the oxygen to my tube…" Charlie squinted a bit to look at Ellie's ID. "Dr. Eleanor Woodcomb? Wow, have times changed. Never thought I'd meet a doctor who looked like she should moonlight as a pin-up girl. Most of the ones I've had were these old farts who were in worse shape than me."

Ellie laughed at that as she glanced at his chart and made the proper adjustments to the oxygen intake valve on the wall. "Oh, so the feisty rumors were true."

"Yeah, I've been a regular Sid Caesar since getting here. It's part of my charm. That's why Clara put up with me for 45 years."

"Your wife?"

Charlie nodded. "I was drafted into the Army in 1950 with all of my friends. There were five of us: Hinkley, Jasper, Tank, Lenny, and me. We were separated into different companies and shipped off to Korea, but we eventually found each other when they merged some of the companies together. We had big plans. We were going to start our own construction business here when we got home. The way Chicago was growing at that time, we couldn't lose."

"What happened?"

The energy that seemed to light up Charlie's face disappeared. "I'm the only one who came home. Tank died in Operation Tomahawk, Lenny and Jasper were killed in the Battle of the Imjin River, and Hinkley died saving my life at Heartbreak Ridge. He…dove for me when a mortar went off. I took a ton of shrapnel in my arm and leg, but the mortar tore him apart."

A tear started going down Charlie's cheek. "That was my last day in battle. They sent me home."

Ellie fell silent and looked at the ground. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, we did good things defending the country. I mean, you're a doctor now, right? We didn't have a lot of women doctors when I was your age. And none of them as pretty as you. Wait, Woodcomb? Are you related to that blonde guy who worked on me?"

"Devon. Yes, we're married. And you'll love this: our daughter's name is Clara."

Charlie laughed gently. "How about that for karma. Handsome guy, your husband. Reminds me of the time I met Errol Flynn at the old International Amphitheatre back in the 40s. And I've met two other Claras in my life besides my wife, both wonderful, strong-willed ladies. I'll just bet your daughter will grow up to be the same way."

"I don't doubt it. She's a handful."

"Kids can be that way, I've been told. My Clara and me, we never really had time for kids, and I don't think either of us were too upset about it."

"You were together for 45 years?"

"After I recovered and came home, I saw her at a USO party. We danced all night, and…that's all it took. She supported me all the way when I said I still wanted to start that construction company. She even agreed to be the company's secretary. We built it up and it was a success. JTHL Construction."

Ellie's eyes widened. "That's you? Half the homes in the northern suburbs were built by your company! I think ours was, too!"

Charlie smiled. "Named it for my buddies. Every single house I've ever built, every school, church, their initials are somewhere in the concrete. That way, they got to be a part of it."

Ellie smiled. "That is so wonderful of you."

"I owed them that at the very least."

"So, you were married for 45 years…" Ellie did some quick math in her head and the smile disappeared. "How long ago did you lose your wife?"

"She died 18 years ago. Pancreatic cancer."

"Oh, God." Ellie could feel the wind go out of her. "That's…"

Charlie shrugged. "It happens. She had a wonderful life and made sure I had one, too. I was a very lucky person. Just wish the Cubs would have won a World Series sooner. Figures they finally get good and my sorry ass is stuck in here."

Charlie seemed to be growing fatigued. Ellie took his hand. "We'll talk more in the morning, OK? Get some rest. Call if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Dr. Eleanor. Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

Ellie smiled and squeezed his hand. She left the room and checked the time. She would get to go home in an hour.

 _ **Schulman Medical Center – Chicago, IL  
May 30, 2016  
8:00 AM CDT**_

Ellie walked upstairs to check on Charlie MacArthur. She exited the elevator on the ninth floor and walked up to the nurse's station. Everyone had the same vacant look on their faces.

"What happened?" she asked, already fearing the worst.

"Mr. MacArthur died last night," the nursing supervisor told her. "He was having difficulty breathing and then went into cardiac arrest. We tried to bring him back, but…"

Ellie grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. "Dammit," she whispered, feeling her emotions threatening to boil to the surface.

"The night duty nurse said he asked her to pass a message to you: to give your Clara a big hug for him and to make sure you take her to Wrigley Field."

"Thanks," Ellie said, choking up. She walked down to the doctor's lounge on the floor and closed the door behind her. She collapsed onto the couch as she felt more tears coming. One of the toughest things she had to learn in medical school was keeping a detachment from her patients. Being a doctor meant keeping some distance between a patient and themselves so this job wouldn't destroy you inside.

Today, she just couldn't do that. Not for Private Charlie MacArthur.


End file.
